


Love of Lies, Lies of Love

by ZMoon



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Adults Exposing Themselves to Children, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Cursed at Birth, Curses, Dad Midgardormr, Dragons, Guilt, Harm to Children, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Midgardsormr Has To Explain Dragons to Euden, My First Fanfic, Nightmares, Self-Hatred, Sex Education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZMoon/pseuds/ZMoon
Summary: Euden hates Valentine's Day.Since birth, people have been unnaturally attracted to him, in ways platonic or otherwise. While it's helped him gain a lot of allies, he worries that he's actually seeping away their free will.When he gets a note from Cupid asking to meet up for something not involving a confession, he's going to find out more about his curse than he bargained for.





	Love of Lies, Lies of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags. Because of his curse, Euden was exposed to sexual nudity as a child, though nothing sexual takes place. Also, while Midgardsormr does explain some things about dragons to Euden, it's not sexual in any way and doesn't go into detail.

Euden hates Valentine’s Day.

Everyone is doing things for him. Everyone. Even those who just see him as a friend (he hopes, many of the Halidom’s denizens are much too old for him) are getting him gifts and cards and thinly-veiled confessions and he just can’t take it.

He’s on his way back to his room when he runs into some of his friends. He manages to pull a curious, innocent expression as Notte explains they were all just talking about Valentine’s. 

Joy.

He listens politely and manages a broad grin as Orion says ‘everyone holds him dear to their hearts in some fashion.’ It comes across as genuine because he smiles when he’s nervous anyway, a skill that has saved him in many situations.

When Hildegarde asks if everyone has made their feelings clear to him, he looks down and hopes that they mistake the emotion in his eyes for happiness.

“You have,” he hears himself say. “And thank you.”

He tries not to lose control of himself and closes his eyes with a light smile on his face as he listens to his friends go on and on about their love for him.

“Happy Valentine’s!” they all say, and he opens his eyes and says it with them, laughing a little afterward from anxiety.

“Oh man, I can’t wait for next year!” Notte cries at the end, and Euden can’t find himself disagreeing more. He bids them a hasty farewell and hurries off, his feet automatically turning down hallways and up stairs until he reaches the highest heart of the castle.

He nearly turns around and runs the other way when he sees Philia sleeping outside his door, which is covered in valentines. Pink and red and white boxes and gift bags are pushed against the wall near his door, and he knows they can’t all be from her.

He politely tolerates Philia, and protects her like he would any other member of the Halidom, but… even though he knows she hasn’t done anything wrong, he finds himself hating her.

She’s the perfect representation of all his problems.

“Jurota,” he breathes, and the ninja who is almost always following him lands in front of the prince, silent as a cat. 

“Yes, master?” the blue-haired teenager breathes back just as quietly, meeting Euden’s gaze. Euden feels a disgusted shudder run down his back at that.

“I told you not to call me that,” Euden hisses, and Jurota averts his gaze.

“It’s a force of habit, ma—my lord,” the ninja replies. “What do you need?”

Euden closes his eyes, exasperated, but mentally puts on his kid gloves, the ones he uses to handle people (and dragons) in love with him. Jurota, however, is unique in the fact he knows Euden is often putting on an act—not out of Euden telling him, but rather from spying on his master. 

The prince had been furious at first when Jurota told him out of guilt but quickly found how freeing it was to have an unquestioning, fiercely loyal ninja at his beck and call. Ninjas, he knows, can keep secrets.

“I can’t deal with Philia right now,” he whispers, and his eyes widen when he sees Jurota reaching for his knives. “Not that way! Just get her away from my room without letting her know where I am. Please.”

The ninja nods as Euden slips into the next-door storage room and closes the door without a sound. He settles into a cross-legged position next to the door and hears Jurota and Philia conversing. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but when Philia squeals in delight and feet patter away down the hallway, he has some idea. 

“I told her you were in the garden,” Jurota says as he opens the door a few moments later. Euden rises to his feet and sighs as he leaves the storage room, looking at the mess of gifts outside his door. For a moment, he’s tempted to ask Jurota to go fetch a match, but that’s a childish reaction that would end up hurting a lot of people’s feelings. The mere thought of his friends’ heartbroken faces leaves him aching.

Not to mention he has to keep up that innocent facade. 

“Will you help me with this, Jurota?” Euden asks, and the blue ninja nods, carefully gathering up boxes, flowers, and cards. Euden does the same, and when they finally put everything on the table in Euden’s room, they are both covered in glitter and a floral scent. 

“Alright,” Euden says, steeling himself. “Time to read them all. This stuff is really private, so you should probably go find something else to do, Jurota.”

“As you wish, master,” Jurota says, and by the time Euden turns around to chastise him, his door has already clicked shut. His eyes return to the pile of presents, and he sighs, flopping into the chair and putting his face in his hands.

He wishes his sister was here. She always knew what to say to him in these situations. And she knew the dark secret he kept in his heart, too, the reason he hated when people loved him. He remembers the look on her face when he told her, how she hugged him and said ‘I’ll always love you as my brother, curse or no,’ and he pushes the memory away before he can start crying again.

He busies himself with grabbing the first present, which is a green box with a red ribbon, and knows immediately it’s from Malora. 

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_He was twelve again and weeping because he had walked into his room and one of the maids had been laying on his bed completely naked. He had run to his father at once, and the maid had been publicly flogged and fired, but it didn’t make it any better because now someone was hurt because of him._

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_He had been innocent, once._

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_He had asked his father as soon as he found him alone that night, why, why did people act so strangely around him, girls especially, and his father had been unable to look him in the eye as all the servants in the room looked intently at their feet._

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_He also asked his father for new bedsheets._

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_“What are you waiting for?” the king’s voice boomed at the nervous servants. “Get out and get the boy some new bedsheets. Burn the old ones.”_

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_The servants had hurried away, and Euden’s father patted the chair next to his at the long dining table. Euden had been too young to realize it then, but he knew now that his father had been in the dining room drinking. He sat._

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_“This is something you cannot tell anyone,” his father’s deep voice had rumbled, and as Euden opened his mouth to ask for an exception, he continued. “Not even your twin sister.”_

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____“Someday I’ll tell you the whole truth, child, but today I will tell you just enough for you to understand…”_ ___

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“Master Euden,” he hears, and there’s a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

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“E-Edward…!” He cries, not really thinking, and blinks several times, feeling a sluggishness throughout his body, He realizes he’d fallen asleep at the desk as he used to during tutoring when he was younger and feels flush with embarrassment.

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“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Edward says. “But from the expression on your face, it didn’t look as though you were having pleasant dreams.”

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“N-no,” Euden says, looking down. “I mean, no, that wasn’t it. I’m just… I…”

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He struggles to find a response that matches Edward’s perception of him without telling him what the real problem was.

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“I miss my family, sometimes.”

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It wasn’t technically a lie. Edward’s face creases with concern.

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“You know, you’re always welcome to speak about your problems with me, or any other of your friends, for that matter,” Edward says, putting a gloved hand on Euden’s shoulder again. “Everyone at the Halidom cares about you on some level.”

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Euden nods before noticing what Edward is holding in his other hand.

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“What’s that?”

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“Oh! Yes, that’s right,” Edward says, putting a sturdy-looking chest on the desk. “Since you’re getting so many sensitive keepsakes today, I thought perhaps you’d like a lockbox to keep them in. It’s a mana-based lock, so it will only open with your touch. I, er, had to borrow some of your hair to configure it, but it ended up a nice surprise, I hope.”

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Euden pretends not to notice the light blush creeping up on the older man’s cheeks but feels a twinge of dismay anyway before mentally shaking himself. It’s not like the man can help it, as cursed as Euden is. He returns his attention to the lockbox and is about to touch it when Edward speaks.

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“I do have other things to attend to today, but you’re scheduled for a few free days. I do hope you’ll enjoy it,” The butler says before taking his leave. Euden stares at the door for a while before touching the lockbox’s lock.

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“That was weird,” he mutters to himself before looking inside. There’s no roses or anything, thank the Goddess, and he begins to toss the love letters and confessions, anonymous and otherwise, into the box, keeping out the chocolates, flowers and various other trinkets. 

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He skims the ones he hasn’t read—only Malora and Philia have signed their notes, anyway, as those who would deliver the gift to his room rather than in person were too shy to announce their identity. They all tend to say the same thing, anyway, in different ways. But as time passes, the prince finds himself enjoying comparing the handwriting and stationary; and looking at the various pressed flowers, small doodles, and drawings the letters sometimes contain. Some letters even have colored drawings, with varying degrees of artistic talent. A few others make him chuckle or blush, though he can’t figure out who wrote them.

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There are even a small number of scrolls that have dragon scales attached, and Euden reads those with more interest. The first one is obviously from Mym, not only because it’s signed, and reads exactly like her daily love speeches to him, but also due to the fact she gives her scales to him so gladly that he’d recognize them from anywhere.

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He smiles lightly at the fact that some scaled letters are not signed. Do his dragons really think he doesn’t pay enough attention to notice what their scales look like? They do tend to underestimate humans. He ends up playing a game with himself at guessing who the dragons are based on their writing style and scales, and almost forgets his worries.

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Here was a smooth, round, dark scale that looked almost purple—only one dragon had a color like that on them, and that was Silke with her purplish tail. He stops reading her letter halfway through, however—it was so needy it was almost creepy.

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There was a long yellow feather Euden instantly recognizes as Jupiter’s. When he picks it up, he’s astonished to find it had been fashioned into a high-quality quill that had probably written the attached letter.

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‘I don’t love you or anything, but you humans sure are interesting! I’ve been laughing all day watching you all scamper around and get jealous and flustered just because of a date on a calendar! Oh, I need to see more human holidays! Happy Valentine’s Day,’ it read. Euden laughs a little at that. 

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The next scale was long and red, ending in a blackened tip—obviously Pele’s. Her letter only had one sentence, and the edges of the paper were blackened with ash.

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‘You remind me of someone I used to love.’

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Euden stares at the letter several seconds before putting it in the box. He reminds himself to buy Pele a nice, juicy hunk of meat the next time he sees one for sale.

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There was a ‘thank-you for what you’ve done for us’ letter signed by Sylvia and Melsa. There was also a highly embarrassed, yet heated and passionate, letter from Prometheus. Though he didn’t sign or leave a scale, Euden somehow knows it was him. He gets a similar letter from Garuda, using haughty language and an irritated tone to thank him for sheltering Lowen, Louise, and herself. He suddenly thinks that Garuda and Prometheus would get along quite nicely, as both are prickly on the outside but secretly insecure. He promises himself he’ll introduce them to each other later. 

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He is surprised when he gets a napkin-sized letter from Notte, but it was really quite sweet. She said she thought of him like family, and that she would stick with him for his whole life, helping him and being a friend. Euden was smiling when he reached for the last letter.

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‘I need to talk to you. It’s really important, and I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a love confession! Meet me at the cliff behind the Halidom at noon tomorrow, please? <3 Cupid,’ It read. Poked into the parchment at the bottom of the letter was a fluffy pink-purple feather that was indeed Cupid’s.

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Euden finds his curiosity piqued, and leaves the letter on the table so he won’t forget when he wakes up. Finally, all the letters save Cupid’s are locked away, the wrapping papers and ribbons in a pile in the neighboring chair, and the gifts sorted into edible, non-edible, and floral categories. While he enjoys all the gifts, it’s the non-edible pile he’s most pleased with—the gifts from there are interesting. Among them is a small canvas painting of the Halidom, a warm red scarf, a sword upkeep kit, an encyclopedia on dragons, a stationary set, a blank notebook, a cute stuffed dragon, and various other presents. He tosses the stuffed dragon onto his bed

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As he changes into sleep clothes, he decides that he’ll spend tomorrow morning sorting the presents into his room, then go meet with Cupid. He touches the panel on the wall that turns the light-mana in his room off and slides gratefully into his cozy blankets.

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Valentine’s Day has made him so exhausted he’s asleep soon after he curls into bed.

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_“…Your blood is cursed, Euden. I tried to convince your mother not to do it, and she acted as though she had decided against it, but then when she was alone with you—she did something no mage can figure out how to undo…”_

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_He looked at his hands and was unsurprised to find himself naked and covered in blood._

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_“People will fall in love with you, Euden. They will fall in love with you for no reason other than the fact your mana is warped. If they don’t fall in love with you, they will like you anyway. It has a magnetic quality to it that few can resist. Your mother told me it would do wonders in helping to lead a nation and gain allies and manipulate others. I told her it would drive you insane. And it seems I was right.”_

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_Euden looked up to see it was no longer his father sitting there, but rather Zodiark, the dragon that contained a piece of his dead father’s soul._

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_“Fix it,” Euden said. “Fix me. Please.”_

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_“I can’t, Euden,” he heard from behind himself, “Because no love for you is real. Nobody will ever really love you, Euden, not really.”_

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_He turns around to see his sister in those horrible black clothes._

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_“I love you, Euden,” she says, and Euden wants to vomit when he saw trails of blood starting to flow down her cheeks from her eyes._

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_“You don’t,” he sobbed, and he wanted to reach for her but he couldn’t move._

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She suddenly dissolved into a puddle of blood on the floor.

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_“What have you done, Euden?”_

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_He turned to see Elisanne crying from empty holes rather than eyes._

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_“You’ve taken all the sense from us… you’ve made us into blind slaves…”_

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_Elisanne, and Cleo, and Mym, and Philia, and Malora, and Ezelith, and Hildegarde, and Jurota, and Orion, and Luca and Ranzal and everyone he’d ever met, how could he know if they really were loyal to him or just caught in his mana, like flies in a web?_

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_“Every time you touch your lover it will be because they’re drugged,” something whispered in his ear, and he looked over to see that maid, that woman who’d tried to seduce a twelve-year-old with her body. “Every time you return someone’s affections you’re molesting their mind. Already you’re falling into it. Look how you’re already abusing it, you piece of shit.”_

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_“I don’t want to! I didn’t choose this—I don’t…”_

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__“You do choose it,” the nude woman said. “By lying instead of living. By living instead of dying.”_ _

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-=-=-=-=-=-

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Euden wakes up crying and hugging that stupid stuffed dragon. He freezes when he sees it, then throws it across the room. He hugs his pillow, burying his face in it, heaving and sobbing into the pillow until he feels he might pass out, then pulls away, breathing too hard to cry. He stares at the ceiling, chest heaving. 

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The last thing he wants to do is even touch any Valentine’s gifts. 

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He slides off his bed to his closet, picks out an outfit, and punishes himself with a freezing cold shower before getting dressed. As he slinks down the stairs he has a brief mental battle with himself before deciding that while he doesn’t deserve breakfast, he’ll eat anyway because failing to protect his friends in battle because of an unhealthy body would be worse.

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He arrives at the dining hall to see Cleo sliding some dishes full of food in front of Elias, Lowen, Pia, and Lily. Pia smiles and says something he can’t quite catch to Cleo, which causes the sylvan to giggle before her ears twitch and she looks up to see Euden. 

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“Good morning,” Cleo says as he walks closer to her. “Everyone who’s working today has already set out. Well, all the adults, anyway,” she adds, glancing at the children. “So what would you like for breakfast?”

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Euden smiles at her, though he doesn’t deserve such a kind friend, she manages to cheer him up anyway. After some toast and eggs and helping her with some chores, he’s almost back to normal by noon. Cleo asks him to stay for lunch, but he declines, truthfully stating that he has other plans. 

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He lets his mind wander as he automatically makes his way to one of the castle’s many exits. Normally his curse is something he pushes away, in the recesses of his mind, something that only comes up when his friends look at him in a certain way or say something just a little too kind. Valentine’s Day has only made matters worse. Zethia had held him together, before then. Before her, he hadn’t really talked to anyone other than the castle staff.

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Without her to confide in, he feels he’s quickly becoming unraveled.

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He can’t swallow the nervousness that bubbles up as he makes his way down the rugged cliff path behind the Halidom, stepping slowly to not trip. As the path evens out, through the thinly scattered trees he spots Cupid easily, soft and purple-pink, almost glowing in the afternoon light. He looks so serene, eyes closed as he sits cross-legged in a sunbeam, that Euden almost doesn’t want to disturb him. 

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Almost. He wants answers.

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“Hello,” he calls out softly, and Cupid turns gracefully and beams when he sees Euden. The prince feels a surge of affection for the pure dragon as he makes his way over and sits across from him. Like all dragons using their human forms, he’s very tall but short in dragon standards. Still, he tops even Ranzal by a head or so. Euden notices his puffy tail swishing back and forth with some sort of nervous energy.

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“Hiii, Euden,” Cupid replies. “Ohhhh, I’m so excited to tell you this. But first! I got you something. Humans love to eat around this time of day, am I right or am I right?”

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Cupid pushes something wrapped in cloth towards Euden, and Euden is pleasantly surprised. He deals easily with hunger, seeing as he’s been out on long patrols and adventures with his friends or alone. But it’s really nice to be able to eat on a schedule. He unwraps the meal to find a meat, cheese, and veggie sandwich that looks delicious.

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“Thanks, Cupid,” he says before taking a bite. It’s delicious. Cupid lets Euden take his time, content to bask in the light as he waits. 

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“So, erm…” Euden begins as he wipes his mouth with the cloth when he’s done. “What exactly did you want to tell me?”

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“Oh, yes!” Cupid says, eyes returning from a long stare at some point in the distance. “Euden, I’ve been thinking, and there’s no doubt about it! We’re related!”

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Euden’s eyes widen.

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“W-what?” he whispers quietly.

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“Yes! Half-brothers, to be exact! Isn’t it wonderful?”

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“B-but,” Euden protests, hating how he suddenly notices how their hair, while different colors, is the exact same texture, and their eyes a similar green, and their skin a matching creamy white. “But you’re a dragon!”

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“Oh, silly!” Cupid giggles, reaching for Euden’s hand and enveloping it in his much larger one, trembling with excitement. “Don’t you know humans and dragons can mate?”

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Mate? 

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Humans and dragons can mate…

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Oh, no, no, no, this changes everything.

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Because then, that would mean his romance-curse hasn’t only been affecting humans, but it’s also been ensnaring dragons, those beautiful, wonderful creatures he thought were immune were actually just his slaves as well and it’s so wrong, wrong, wrong—

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He jerks away from Cupid’s hand as though it were acid, tears threatening to spill from his eye-lids. The other dragon’s mouth is agape in shock, frozen other than their still-twitching tail.

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“E-Euden? You look so scared, are you okay?”

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He doesn’t want to know. He wishes he’d never come here. Cupid cannot tell him anything that will ease the searing fire in his soul. Whatever else anyone tells him now can only get worse.

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He gets up and quickly walks away, so upset his hands are itching furiously for a sword to release his fire-mana from. When he touches his face to wipe away his tears, his hands burn with heat.

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Cupid does not follow.

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-=-=-=-=-=-

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Notte finds Euden releasing his emotions with his sword on a pack of fiends in the woods, panting and smelling of charred flesh.

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Yes, Euden knows it’s stupid to go fiend-hunting alone; yes, he knows it’s stupid to go fiend-hunting when upset; and yes, he knows it’s stupid to go fiend-hunting on a whim. But if he’d gone back to the Halidom in that state…

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Well, he didn’t know what he would do.

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“What the heck do you think you’re doing, mister?!”

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Having slain the last of them (it’s still twitching and moaning in its death throes) he whirls at Notte’s voice, sheathing his sword and catching his breath.

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“Hfff… Hi, Notte. I’m slaying fiends.”

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“Well, duh! But WHY?”

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“Because they’re bad?”

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Notte flies right up in his face, angry and intimidating as a little fairy can be.

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“You know what I meant! You’ve been gone forever! Everyone’s been worried sick about you! Cupid’s been crying his eyes out! Elisanne too!”

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Euden feels a pang of guilt, and then a tidal wave of emotion associated with that encounter.

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(don’t you know humans and dragons can mate)

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Something must have flitted across his face because Notte softens and gently whaps him on the nose.

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“Look, let’s just go home, okay?”

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At first, the walk back is easy. Euden is high off adrenaline and bottled emotion at first, but by the time they’ve reached the gates, he’s fallen into the familiar half-asleep shuffle that comes with late night patrols. Looking up, he sees the sky is turning deep, nighttime blue, and he sighs as he sees Luca running up to him.

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What he doesn’t expect is for Luca to pick him up and spin him around.

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“You’re alive!” He cries out joyously, and when he’s back on the ground, shaking the dizziness off, he sees Cleo, Elisanne, and Ranzal trotting over. 

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“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. If shame was gnawing at him before, now its got its fangs deep in his flesh. “I didn’t think I would worry you all so much. Really, I wasn’t thinking at all.”

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“Obviously! You know how dangerous the woods are! What if an Imperial saw ya!? Ya coulda been killed!” Ranzal scolds, pulling Euden close all the same. 

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“He makes a point,” Cleo says dryly.

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“I’m sorry,” Euden repeats, and it’s taking all his strength not to start crying again. He wants nothing more to tell them, to tell them of his cursed soul, but what then?

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If they abandon him, they’d have freedom but he’d be all alone. If they stayed by his side, they’d inadvertently end up his loyal slaves, and he’d still have his guilt weighing on him constantly.

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There was no good outcome.

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So he stayed silent as they walked back to the castle, other than answering with a yes or no or apology. He nods and hums and lets Cleo check him over for injuries even though he knows he doesn’t have any. He can tell his friends are worried sick about him, but if they had any more info they’d just worry more, so he keeps his mouth shut.

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Then he goes to bed.

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He stares at the ceiling for an hour.

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He gets back up.

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-=-=-=-=-=-

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This time, he’s left a note so when Edward goes to wake him there won’t be another panic over his disappearance. He carries some simple sandals in one hand, not bothering to change out of pajamas or put on shoes yet (bare feet are quiet against tile anyway). He’s not going back to the woods, he’s simply going to meet with a friend and ask for some advice. 

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Forced friend, he knows, but who isn’t?

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When he arrives at the door without incident he whistles very quietly, an unspoken order to make Jurota reveal himself if he was there without attracting attention. When nothing happens, he figures his loyal vassal must be asleep. He slips on his sandals and steps out. 

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The night is cool but not uncomfortably so, and he avoids the grass in favor of the well-worn path to the cliffside where the floating dragon island is closest.

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The floating island doesn’t move, so he’d ordered a bridge to be built so people and dragons could mingle and grow close to one another. The bridge can be unattached if the dragons want privacy, but nobody has done that yet. The people and dragons have a healthy respect for one another at the Halidom.

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Euden pads across the long bridge constructed of wooden planks and rope, desensitized to heights after seeing the world through a dragon’s eyes dozens of times. When he arrives at the dragons’ island he pauses before calling out softly.

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“Midgardsormr?”

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Nothing replies for a long while, save the soft shush of wind through leaves. He sighs. Either the dragon will come or he will not.

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Euden sits, then leans on his hand, and nearly falls back asleep. Suddenly a strong, cold gale shocks him awake as a mighty green dragon lands in front of him with barely a sound, save for the wind.

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“What have you here so late at night, my king?”

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“Ah,” Euden says, standing and brushing the dirt off his legs. “I-I…”

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He hates his sudden shyness.

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“I wanted to ask you some questions,” he answers, meeting Midgardsormr’s red eyes. The dragon almost looks amused as he lowers to lay on his belly. The sight is a spitting image of the pose and regality of the sphynx dragon statue Nefaria showed Euden in a book once, and Euden feels a rush of pride and gratitude that something so wise and powerful actually wants to talk to him.

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“Well, come here, my king, and I shall answer to the best of my ability,” Midgardsormr says, beckoning him with one large green wing. Euden nods before going to sit by Midgardsormr. Even from a few feet away, he can feel a little of the body heat of the large and powerful creature.

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“W-well, um…” Euden begins. “I realized today that as much time as I spend around dragons, I actually don’t know much about them at all. Like, do all of you have human and dragon forms?”

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Midgardsormr hums and Euden can tell he’s making an effort to be quiet due to the other dragons sleeping. 

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“It’s good you wish to learn more, but I question the time of it… anyway, to answer that, yes, we all have more human-like forms and draconic forms we may change between at will. However, all dragons have a personal preference. And as I’m sure you’ve noticed, we cannot hide all our draconian features in our human forms. For instance, we will always have a tail.” Midgardsormr explains, waving his tail toward the end.

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“Interesting,” Euden says. “S-so.”

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He can’t bring the words to form.

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“S-so it’s possible for a dragon—s-say, they loved a human, would the dragon, er, could the dragon, um—”

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“Bear children with a human?” Midgardsormr finishes.

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Euden cannot speak, but he feels as though his face is on fire. He nods. Midgardsormr’s eyes sparkle with amusement.

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“Do not be ashamed, my king. These are serious questions. As for that, yes, if the dragon and human were of opposite sex, they could have children. A male dragon could impregnate a human female, while a male human could impregnate a female dragon. In the case of a female dragon, this will be the only case in which she would give live birth instead of eggs.”

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“E-eggs?” Euden squeaks out.

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“Yes, eggs. Dragons are born from mana-infused eggs that take hundreds of years to hatch. Pregnancy, however, takes as long as a human female’s would, if not a little shorter…” Midgardsormr trails off, looking at Euden curiously. “You do know the aspects of your own species’s anatomy and reproduction, yes?”

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Euden nods uncomfortably. This is unbelievably embarrassing for him, but he’s also thoroughly fascinated.

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“Oh, good. If I had to explain that to a seventeen-year-old human…” the dragon trails off, chuckling slightly before returning his attention to Euden.

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“So, what would a half-dragon child be like?” Euden asks, steeling himself.

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“So this is what you’ve been after,” Midgardsormr murmurs, half to himself. “Well, they might be able to slightly shift their anatomy. Changing eye color for a few seconds, for example. They inherit the looks of the human form of their parent dragon combined with human parent. Their mana is always the same as their dragon parent’s, simply due to the strong and overpowering nature of dragon mana. They’re usually quite skilled at using it in the manner their dragon parent did, and are overall stronger…”

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Euden trembles. Midgardsormr takes notice.

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“And having a dragon somewhere in your family lineage is the only known way to have the ability to make pacts with dragons, and therefore temporarily shapeshift into them,” Midgardsormr finishes.

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Euden gasps and hugs himself.

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“Why didn’t you tell me? By the Goddess, why?” he chokes out, shaking all over.

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Midgardsormr stares at Euden for several seconds, red eyes slowly widening.

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Oh.

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Oh, no.

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“You mean you didn’t know?” Midgardsormr says, tail sweeping across the dirt as something sad creeps into his voice. 

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Euden only nods. Tears stream silently.

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“Your father never told you? Oh, I am going to have a word with Zodiark,” Midgardsormr says, voice starting to drip venomously as he rises and whirls to face the forest.

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“W-wait, wait, Midgardsormr… Wait…”

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The dragon turns, clearly annoyed, and though Euden knows it’s not towards him, he flinches anyway. The old dragon sighs.

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“I apologize, my king. Not many things make me angry these days, but to treat a dragonborne like this… It’s unacceptable.”

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“Midgardsormr… Cupid said we’re half brothers.”

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Euden watches as Midgardsormr approaches, looking at him keenly, tilting his head left then right as though trying to get a light to shine at a certain angle into his eyes. He leans close enough that Euden could reach out and touch him, and closes his eyes. Euden stays still, cheeks damp, sensing that Midgardsormr is testing something he cannot see or feel.

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“Your mana is very similar to his, though he is light and you are fire,” Midgardsormr says as he pulls away. “It’s a reasonable assumption, and may very well be true.”

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“Father said it was cursed, that my mother did something to it… Is that why I’m like this?” Euden asks, wiping at his face.

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“Whatever do you mean?” Midgardsormr says, and Euden freezes. He could backpedal here, could find some excuse or lie, and though he doubts it would fool Midgardsormr it would at least keep his privacy.

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But he wants someone to confide in so badly, has wanted it ever since he lost Zethia. Jurota is good, but he lacks the emotional sense Euden wants so much to lean against. Midgardsormr is so wise, and knowledgable, and everything he needs. Euden holds the bitter secret in his mouth, weighing to vomit or swallow, wondering what would hurt more.

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“All my life,” he begins, and Midgardsormr sits down close to him, crosslegged. It’s a strange sight, to see a dragon sit like that, but after a few moments, Euden begins again.

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And he tells Midgardsormr everything, how people are unnaturally, supernaturally attracted to him, romantically and otherwise, how he’s rejected their advances, how he worries he’s making dragons and people into psychic slaves simply by his presence. He doesn’t cry but he does wipe away watery tears, and he appreciates the thoughtful silence from Midgardsormr. Will the dragon be disgusted with him? Or will he feel pity? Will he tell everyone to leave?

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Though he’s shaking again by the time he finishes, he finds he’s too afraid to ask for the answers to his questions. He simply sits, staring at a pebble in the dirt.

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Midgardsormr’s clawed fingers come into view.

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Euden doesn’t move. Will the dragon strike him down like the freak of nature he is?

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He doesn’t expect for Midgardsormr to tilt his chin up, so they’re looking at each other face-to-face. 

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“Euden,” the dragon rumbles, “There is nothing wrong with you.”

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It’s too much. Euden has learned too much in one day. He shakes his head, feeling his bangs brush his forehead, nervously clasping his hands together.

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“Listen. Look at me. Are you listening?”

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Euden obeys, too overcome with emotion to speak. 

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“Considering Cupid is your brother, I believe I know exactly who your mother is. She is the dragon of… another kind of love. Her mana has a magnetic quality like you describe, one that Cupid has half-mixed in with his dragon father’s mana. But unlike Cupid, your father is human, so his natural mana was completely overtaken by your mother’s. Do you understand?”

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Euden nods, body still with rapt attention.

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“Euden, you did not grow up around experienced dragons. Your father called your natural mana a curse, not out of malice, but because he didn’t understand. Your mother wasn’t around for your childhood, was she?”

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“No. How did you know?”

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“Because if she was, she would have taught you the workings of your mana. She would have taught you how to… not turn it off, exactly, but lower the exchange of mana between body and air enough so you wouldn’t impact sapient beings.”

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“I can do that?” Euden asks, head spinning with exhaustion and half-believing joy. 

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“Yes. It is how I get around without making the wind blow all the time, how Jupiter flies without attracting lightning like a rod. It’s a necessary skill young dragons learn, one you should have learned but never did.”

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“Teach me,” Euden says desperately. “Teach me right now.”

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“I can’t. I know not of your family’s mana. If you want to learn, you’d learn best from Cupid.”

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“Where’s Cupid?”

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“Stop. My king, it’s been hours and you’ve been fighting fiends, I can smell it on you, and you still haven’t rested. Go sleep. We can continue this in the morning, I promise.”

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“No,” Euden says, steel edging his voice. “I’ve waited seventeen years, I’m not waiting another damn second. Where. Is. Cupid?”

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Midgardsormr looks down at Euden’s anger, thoroughly unimpressed.

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“I will excuse that since you’re still a hatchling and I can smell the stress coming off you in waves. If you were to try mana manipulation now, when you’re so exhausted, you’d just hurt yourself. Go.”

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“No!”

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“Enough! Cupid is likely asleep, and you should be too.”

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Euden wants to snap, wants to scream, but that won’t get him anywhere. He breathes in slowly, then exhales and opens his eyes. 

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“What if I just went to meet up with Cupid, so I could sleep and then start as soon as I woke up in the morning?”

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Midgardsormr growls lightly in annoyance but relents.

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“He’s usually around the western side of the island, among a large patch of clovers,” the dragon says.

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Euden darts off without another word.

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-=-=-=-=-=-

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He smells the clover before he sees it. It’s almost pitch black in the forest, and it’s a wonder Euden hasn’t broken an ankle tripping over tree roots and rocks. He keeps thinking he sees faces, jumping at every little sound and sometimes at his own sounds of some twig or shuffled leaf. 

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He can feel the stress in his body, a tangible thing that leaves his fire mana burning for release. But only magicians and wizards can make mana directly from their hands. The only way to get his out is through (preferably) a sword, or some other weapon. 

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It doesn’t stop his hands from heating up and shaking with nerves, though. 

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Seventeen years, seventeen years he’s suffered through these fake relationships and constantly second-guessed himself, and now he’s learning it could have been avoided with something as simple as a little mana manipulation this whole time.

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It makes him sick, so sick he wants to kill something, something that will scream as it dies. His fire wants to burn. 

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Then he’s disgusted with himself for thinking such thoughts, feeling like the mana in him is something slick and draconic and disgustingly inhuman, and he feels sick, so sick he wants…

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And so on. And so on.

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This time, its Cupid that finds him.

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“Euden?” Someone calls, and even though the voice is soft and sweet it's still dark and Euden nearly jumps out of his skin, mana flaring enough that a puff of hot air comes from his whole body and waves the leaves on nearby vegetation.

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Euden whirls, and sees Cupid looking confused and a little apprehensive. The dragon was never one to hide the expressions on his face, always wearing his heart on his sleeve.

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“H-hi,” Euden replies, still a little nervous. But now is not the time for hesitation. “I came to apologize.”

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“Oh,” Cupid says before falling silent. Euden expected something else. Happiness? Anger? He doesn’t know. But anything would be better than just an oh.

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“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Euden says. “I must have hurt your feelings, and left you confused. I’m sorry.”

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Cupid, for a few heartbeats, is silent. Euden hardly dares to breathe. Then the dragon breaks into a wide grin, tail wagging, and Euden sighs in relief.

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“Sure. How can I stay mad at my brother, after all?”

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Euden actually finds himself giggling as Cupid companionably wraps a wing or two around him, pulling him close before releasing him with feathers stuck to his clothes.

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Yes, perhaps something good can come out of this, after all.

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**Author's Note:**

> I've tried for an hour to get the stupid italics to work and only ended up making my story more long and confusing, so please excuse the one or two unitalicized lines.


End file.
